


Choice

by SunnySidesofBlue



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Dubious Consent, Forced Consent, M/M, Oral Sex, Sleep Deprivation, Starvation, Sticky Sex, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 09:04:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnySidesofBlue/pseuds/SunnySidesofBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Decepticon triple-changers have set their optics on Skyfire. And for a very specific reason...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Another kinkmeme fill, inspired by these two reqs: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=10808798t10808798 and http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=11146974#t11146974

If only they’d let him recharge.  
  
The fact that he hadn’t been allowed to refuel and by now was running on fumes didn’t help the matter either, but the lack of proper recharge was taking the heavier toll. The list of messed up log files and warnings about memory sections that badly needed defragmentation was getting longer by the minute and he was feeling weak and more than a little light-headed. Every time he tried to initiate recharge, however, he was met with the infuriating message “invalid command” on his HUD.  
  
The first days of his captivity he had been constantly monitored by a couple of drones that, as soon as he began drifting into recharge, would be there poking at him, yelling at him or any of a dozen other activities that made sure he stayed awake. When that had begun to prove insufficient his captors had uploaded a virus into his systems, one that completely disabled his recharge protocols and rendered him physically incapable of entering recharge mode. With his systems already weakened he had had no chance of fighting it.  
  
He knew that he wouldn’t last much longer now before he caved in and gave them what they wanted. At first he had hoped his friends would get him out of there before it came to that, but now there had been eleven days and he was beginning to fear that no-one was coming. He didn’t doubt for a moment that his fellow Autobots would do everything in their power to save him if they could, but it was quite possible that they didn’t even know where he had been taken. He wasn’t even sure himself if he was truly a prisoner of war or if this was some private enterprise of the two mechs that had captured him.  
  
At first he had been wondering why the ‘Cons would target him of all bots. Had it been planned or had he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? In view of what had happened since his capture he was now leaning heavily towards the first explanation. After all, there weren’t many Autobots his size, and considering who his captors were and what they wanted of him…  
  
Skyfire felt a surge of disgust run through his practically empty tanks. Why did they even bother asking? Did they really think it would change anything, that they waited until starvation and fatigue forced him to say yes, instead of taking him by force from the beginning? Was it a game designed for his torment or were they actually so hypocritical as to equal any kind of yes with consent?  
  
He was pulled out of his musings by the sound of two sets of heavy steps approaching the barrier of cracking energy that kept him prisoner. He wearily lifted his helm to look, even though he already knew who it would be.  
  
Sure enough, there was Astrotrain and right behind him Blitzwing, the two triple-changers looking down at him with a mix of disdain and anticipation on their faces.  
  
“Well?” the larger of the two questioned, not needing to clarify further anymore. The question was the same they had tormented him with for 11 days. About 20 times a day.  
  
The first time they asked him he had thought it was some kind of a crude joke. Seriously, who the frag asks an enemy prisoner if he will agree to interface with them? At first Skyfire had refused to answer out of sheer indignation but they had kept asking until he gave them a firm ‘no’.  
  
To his amazement they had seemed to accept that and left without another word. However, barely an hour later they had been back again, and ever since then the same procedure had repeated itself over and over again. It hadn’t taken long for the Autobot shuttle to figure out the unspoken ‘either…or’ that his captors had decided on: no interface - no recharge and no refueling. His first thought was that he would never in a million years submit to such a demand, that he would rather starve into stasis than interface with an enemy. After seven days without fuel or proper rest, though, he had been forced to at least begin to consider the alternative. He wasn’t some shy little virgin after all, and wouldn’t it be worth the temporary discomfort if it meant he could finally be left in peace?

At first the answer had still been a very definite no, but for every time the two triple changers left him after his refusal it got harder and harder to resist the temptation, the alluring promise of rest if only he gave in to their wish. After all, it wasn’t something he’d never done before, right? And no-one else would suffer for his weakness, no-one but himself.  
  
He knew deep down that there was something fundamentally wrong with that line of reasoning but he was frankly too tired to care.  
  
“Well?” Astrotrain repeated and Skyfire let his helm sink back against the wall in a gesture of defeat before he slowly nodded.  
  
“I didn’t hear you,” the large triple changer said and even without looking Skyfire knew that the mech was grinning. “Will you submit?”  
  
Part of him hated himself for giving in but he couldn’t fight the raging fatigue and hunger anymore.  
  
“Yes,” the exhausted Autobot replied, voice barely more than a whisper. “I will.”

The two triple-changers hoisted their prey up on his pedes and half led, half carried him out of the brig. Skyfire tried to keep track of where they were going but his processor was spinning wildly and he could barely keep left from right. He knew he should be worried about what the two would do to him, but all he could think of at the moment was the prospect of finally getting some recharge once they had taken what they wanted.  
  
After what seemed like an eternity they stopped in front of a nondescript door that Blitzwing palmed open. From the few glimpses Skyfire had time to get before he was rather unceremoniously dropped face down onto a fairly hard, badly padded surface – a berth, he assumed – he deduced that he had, not very surprisingly, been taken to someone’s private quarters. He felt a small jolt going through his systems and realized that one of them had administered a small dose of energon straight into one of his lines. Again, not surprising. That was the way he had been kept from going into stasis throughout his imprisonment, small injections that did nothing to quench his horrible thirst but kept him from going into stasis. This time the dose was a bit larger than usual and it did clear up his processor somewhat.  
  
He wished it hadn’t.  
  
Almost instantly there were hands seemingly all over his chassis. Stroking, exploring, pinching and digging into seams, making his plating shiver in disgust. The touches, albeit a bit rough, weren’t painful and with a partner of his own choosing he would have enjoyed them, but like this it was simply _wrong_. Once again he caught himself wondering if the two Decepticons were doing it just to prolong his torment or if they genuinely expected him to respond to their advances. He may have been forced to submit to them but that did _not_ mean he would actively play along.  
  
All too soon the exploring hands found their way to his aft and determinedly wedged his thighs apart. The Autobot shuttle clenched his dentae and barely managed to hold back a hiss of revulsion as he felt two fingers slowly probe the edge of his interface cover.  
  
“Open up,” came from one of his tormentors, the tone making it an order rather than a request.  
  
Shuttering his weary optics and trying to think of something else, Skyfire obeyed.  
  
Without any preamble a finger was shoved into his dry valve and the Autobot tensed and reflexively tried to crawl away from the sudden, unwanted intrusion. The hands on his frame stopped moving and there was a moment of unsettling silence.  
  
“Do you want to return to your cell?” Astrotrain asked, the harshness of his voice making it sound more like a threat than an offer.  
  
Which, in a way, it was. Skyfire wished he could say yes, but going back to the cell now would mean returning to the endless forced vigil and that he just couldn’t take.  
  
He forced himself to relax.  
  
“Smart bot,” Blitzwing commented and Skyfire could practically hear the smirk on the purple and ivory mech’s face.  
  
The hands started moving again and soon yet another finger pushed its way into the white shuttle’s valve. Skyfire felt how whichever of them it was kept flexing and scissoring the intruding fingers, presumably trying to trigger the lubrication system in his valve. He very much doubted he was even physically capable of reacting with such a large part of his systems shut down or hampered by the lack of fuel, but even if that hadn’t been the case he found it unlikely that he would have responded – he didn’t find the crude groping the least bit arousing.  
  
It took several minutes of further, increasingly frustrated molestation before this fact registered with the ‘Con behind him and the fingers were removed. A low growl was heard and then a mocking laugh.  
  
“What’s the matter, Astrotrain, lost your touch?” Blitzwing cackled, obviously finding the situation hilarious. “Move over, I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Skyfire heard the sounds of shifting metal as the two mechs changed places. All of a sudden he was dragged backwards so that his legs were no longer supported by the berth. Once again his thighs were pushed apart, but instead of fingers a slick, wet glossa worked its way into his valve. He tensed up again and couldn’t help but emitting a small groan of discomfort and disgust. It may not have been painful but the sheer wrongness of it made his plating crawl. He tried his best to stay silent and still while Blitzwing kept exploring every surface of his intimate hardware with his glossa. It was very difficult.  
  
All of a sudden, though, his focus was directed elsewhere. Apparently Astrotrain had gotten tired of being a mere spectator and was now positioning himself on the berth, sitting down right in front of the reluctant participant in their game, his legs spread on either side of Skyfire’s helm. The Autobot lifted his helm slightly and found himself staring right into the grey triple-changer’s retracting interface cover and the emerging, half pressurized spike.  
  
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was expected of him and Skyfire felt his empty tanks roil in revulsion. He so wanted to tell them to stop but didn’t dare, fearing that they would do just that and put him back in his cell, force him back into the horrible limbo of exhausted wake. He could already feel how the effect of the small amount of energon they had given him a few minutes back was beginning to wear off, accentuating just how badly off he was.  
  
No, he had to do this. As long as he did what they asked he would be able to rest afterwards, and that was the only thing that mattered right now.  
  
Shuttering his optics once more as Astrotrain grabbed his helm he slowly parted his lips and granted the grey mech entry.

With a grunt of satisfaction the large triple-changer directed the tip of his spike to the waiting opening and then drove it home by slowly pulling the white shuttle’s helm against him. Skyfire nearly gagged as the large, ridged piece of metal slid against his lips and glossa. It tasted foully and he had to use all his self-restraint not to pull his helm away. He had to do this.  
  
 _Think of something else, anything but this,_ Skyfire tried to convince himself as he felt the spike between his lips slowly pressurize and Blitzwing’s hands at the same time pushing his thighs further apart in order to get his glossa even deeper into the still non-lubricating valve. Anything, anything to distract him from what was happening.  
  
It didn’t work. His recharge-bereft processor lacked the focus needed to create a secondary line of thought strong enough to override the input from his sensory grid.  
  
 _Just let them do what they want and it’ll soon be over,_ he began telling himself, repeating the words over and over like a mantra.  
  
“Aren’t you supposed to be doing something?” the rumbling voice of Astrotrain stated rather than asked after a while when the Autobot showed no signs of moving. It took Skyfire a few moments to realise that the mech was talking to _him_ and then about as long again before he understood what he meant. With the dawning realization came another wave of revulsion. He had hoped that he at least would be spared the humiliation of having to reciprocate, but apparently his captors had other things in mind.  
  
 _Just do it and soon it’ll all be over,_ he told himself yet again as he forced his glossa into action, stroking the unwanted intruder in his oral cavity. The lustful moans he got in response to his ministrations were almost as revolting as the taste of the spike. He felt Astrotrain once more place a hand on the back of his helm, not really pressing but giving every indication that he expected the mech wrapped around his spike to continue doing what he did until told otherwise.  
  
Skyfire couldn’t do anything but obey. The only respite – if you could call it that – he got was when Blitzwing finally gave up his attempts at getting the white shuttle’s valve wet and withdrew. The relief was short-lived, however, as the mech soon returned and Skyfire felt fingers being pushed into his valve again, though this time covered in some kind of synthetic lubrication oil. The sudden coldness made his intakes stall and for a moment he forgot to keep his mouth working. The lapse was instantly met with a low growl and a tightening of the grip around his neck, and Skyfire’s attention was once again directed forwards.  
  
After what seemed like an eternity of licking and sucking Astrotrain withdrew and Skyfire allowed himself a faint sigh of relief. At least the mech hadn’t overloaded in his mouth.  
  
Said relief faded pretty fast when he heard the grey triple-changer’s next words, spoken in a voice that was hoarse with lust.  
  
“Move over, Blitzwing, I’m not waiting any longer.”

There was a brief pause, indicating a short stare-down or something between the two Cons, before the two lubrication-stained fingers were removed and the sound of movement was heard again. Then Skyfire felt something considerably larger than two fingers being pressed against the opening of his valve and tried once more to force himself to relax, so as not to make the penetration more uncomfortable than necessary.  
  
Even with the synthetic lubrication and the oral fluids covering Astrotrain’s spike the entry was slow and the stretch, though not exactly painful, decidedly unpleasant. As big as Skyfire was, the Decepticon shuttle was still quite a bit larger and his equipment was, unfortunately, perfectly proportionate. Had the interface been truly consensual it wouldn’t have been a problem but tense cabling and deficient lubrication made the discrepancy seem larger than it actually was.  
  
This didn’t deter Astrotrain, though, who kept pressing himself in inch by inch until he was finally fully seated. By then Skyfire’s intakes were heavy, his left hand balled into a tight fist while the right one had dug itself into the padding of the berth, all in a futile attempt to brace himself against the unwanted intrusion. It was still more discomfort than pain, thankfully, and soon the lining of his valve began to adapt to the sensation, making it if not pleasant then at least bearable, but it was still so awfully _wrong_ that part of him just wanted to scream out in frustration. But he had to do this, he kept telling himself, had to do it or he’d go insane from the lack of recharge.  
  
Unfortunately those words were beginning to sound less and less convincing for every time he repeated them.  
  
 _Why?_ he mentally groaned as the grey triple-changer pulled out and then immediately thrust back in, making the Autobot flinch.  
  
The only reply he got was the sound of rasping intakes and the clang of metal against metal as Astrotrain picked up speed.

“Hey, calm down a bit, Astrotrain, I’m not even linked up yet,” came in a frustrated growl from Blitzwing. “You were supposed to get him stretched, no wear yourself out just fragging _him_.”  
  
Skyfire’s foggy processor was still struggling to make sense of the smaller triple-changer’s words when he heard another frustrated growl from behind him and felt how the pounding of his valve decreased in speed and force again until it came to a standstill. Then, to his surprise, the spike was withdrawn altogether.  
  
“Fine, but hurry up!” came from the larger Con, his voice heavy with barely controlled lust, and Skyfire felt himself being lifted by his arms and turned around. The sudden movement made his helm spin and by the time he could tell up from down again he found himself half sitting, half lying with his back against Blitzwing’s chest. A shudder went through him as he felt the smaller triple-changer’s arms reaching around him, seemingly searching Skyfires chest for something. When he realized exactly what it was, the urge to beg them to stop got stronger than ever.  
  
 _No,_ he thought as he felt how his data interface panel was uncovered and a cable non too gently being inserted in his port. _Please, dear Primus, not that as well!_  
  
But he didn’t dare speak the words, didn’t dare to risk provoking them. Instead he bit his lower lip and lowered his outer firewalls when the request came, allowing the purple and ivory mech access.  
  
It was a very strange feeling, the presence of a complete stranger inside his systems. Interfacing by uplink cable was not a very common practice, usually done only between close couples who were already as good as bonded or at least trusted each other implicitly. Granting another this level of access made you very vulnerable to processor or data bank hacking, and that was a risk few were willing to take no matter how wonderful this kind of exchange could be.  
  
To Skyfire’s surprise the Decepticon neither began pulsing energy surges through the link, nor tried to get further into his systems. Instead he merely linked up to the Autobot’s sensory grid, then let his hands slide down the white chest and abdomen in an obvious caress.  
  
 _What in the name of…?_ was all Skyfire had time to think before Astrotrain decided to join the game once more and climbed onto the berth. Hooking his arms under the white shuttle’s knees he pushed the thighs apart, almost folding the Autobot double as he bent forward, getting ready to enter him again.  
  
Skyfire groaned as he felt the larger triple-changer’s spike nudge the entrance of his valve and then slowly push forward. The stretch was still a bit uncomfortable and the awkward position the rest of his frame was trapped in sure didn’t help, but at least the intrusion wasn’t harsh or violent.  
  
To his surprise he heard another, much louder groan from behind him, followed by a “FRAG yeah!”, both obviously from Blitzwing. A wave of energy washed over him from the hard link connection and he felt the hands on his chest suddenly dig into his plating and pull him backwards, pressing him harder against the ‘Con behind him.  
  
Suddenly understanding dawned upon the sandwiched mech, and Skyfire wasn’t quite sure if the realization made things slightly better or ten times worse.  
  
 _Oh Primus,_ he thought as Astrotrain began thrusting once more. _They’re not ‘facing me, they’re ‘facing each other –_ through _me._

Skyfire dimly remembered reading about how the birth of the triple-changing technology had been wrought with a great deal of problems. One of the major ones had been making sure the root mode frame could actually sustain all the extra equipment needed for a second alt mode, as well as the increased energy drain. In order to facilitate the developing process the engineers had therefore summarily discarded all systems that weren't crucial for functioning. Once the basic technology had been perfected this wasn't necessary, but the fact remained that quite a few first generation triple-changers had ended up completely lacking standard interfacing equipment and could only interface by uplink cable. Apparently Blitzwing belonged to this category.  
  
For a moment the scientist in Skyfire actually felt sorry for the mech, who had to live with the bitter knowledge that he was forever excluded from many pleasures most bots took somewhat for granted. After all, there was no such thing as casual interfacing by hard link connection.  
  
Then a particularly deep thrust from Astrotrain and a loud, lust-filled cry from Blitzwing brought him back to reality, reminding him of just how these two mechs had decided to solve the problem, and decided that any kind of sympathy was definitely misplaced.  
  
“Oh frag yeah, do that again!” Blitzwing panted in a voice riddled with static. “Go... hnnng... harder!”  
  
Astrotrain was all too happy to oblige and Skyfire felt like screaming in frustration as he felt the pounding of his valve intensify, all the while wave after wave of pleasure rolled into him over the uplink cable. Frag it, it wasn't even _his_ pleasure! He had no idea how the lighter triple-changer had tweaked his programming to be able to be able to interpret sensory information from components he didn't even have, but judging by the continuous stream of “harder... harder!” it seemed to be a very simple conversion formula akin to 'stronger input = more pleasurable sensation'. Or maybe Blitzwing simply liked it very rough. Skyfire himself still didn't find the by now rather harsh, monotone thrusting pleasurable in any sense of the word – in fact it was becoming borderline painful – but apparently that did nothing to douse the Decepticon's rising charge.  
  
 _Please, Primus, let it all be over soon!_ he kept repeating inside his processor, optics firmly shuttered, trying to draw himself inside his mind and shut out what was being done to his frame. For a moment it seemed to work as the assault on his valve appeared to cease, but then the Autobot realised it was because Astrotrain had, surprisingly, stopped and withdrawn. The reason why soon became clear as Skyfire once again found himself being turned over, this time ending up sprawled on top of Blitzwing, who now lay flat on his back. Strong arms dragged Skyfire down into a mock of an embrace, chest plates pressed flush against the purple and ivory triple-changer's, and the Autobot shuttle once more found his tanks heave in disgust as Blitzwing began mouthing over his neck cabling, licking and nibbling the sensitive components, then moan loudly as the sensory feedback reached him over the link. It was like being used for some weird kind of self-sevicing by proxy and Skyfire found it utterly humiliating. Wasn't it enough that they were already ravishing his frame and his circuitry?  
  
Digging his fingers weakly into the padding of the berth as if looking for some kind of support, the Autobot shuttle couldn't hold back a groan when Astrotrain entered him again from behind, leaning down to rest most of his weight on the Autobot's back while his hips kept grinding against Skyfire's aft.

 _Please, just get it over with and let me go into recharge. Or even stasis, just anything but this!_ the white shuttle kept pleading in silence, his entire frame aching with fatigue and the added strain of the unwanted interface. He realised he couldn't even move his arms and legs properly any more, every minute scrap of energy left in him being redirected to keep his vital systems going. Not that there was anything he could have done anyway, sandwiched between the two Decepticon frames as he was and with their threat of continued forced wake hanging over him, but he really didn't need yet another indicator of how powerless he truly was.  
  
Blitzwing's hands moved away from Skyfire's frame and onto the other triple-changer's, apparently playing with sensor nodes on the broad, purple wings. Astrotrain answered by pushing the Autobot's helm aside so he himself could reach down and claim Blitzwings lips in a fierce kiss. Skyfire couldn't see it but he heard the lustful moans and hard-working cooling systems of the two mechs and felt jolt after jolt rushing over the link, again filling him with pleasure that wasn't his, which in turn made his exhausted frame shiver in disgust. It was so obvious that none of the Decepticons really considered their Autobot prisoner a participant of this interface, he was merely a necessary piece of equipment, an adapter between their incompatible systems.  
  
Soon the larger triple-changer broke the kiss, grabbed Skyfire's shoulders for support to push himself up and then began thrusting in earnest again. For a few blissful moments white mech actually blacked out when Astrotrain's right hand accidentally crimped an energon line, but the respite was short and the return to reality doubly harsh as the large triple-changer had resumed his earlier, dominating pounding, accompanied by Blitzwing's never-ending stream of eager encouragement.  
  
From then on everything was a blur and Skyfire couldn't for the life of him have said for how long the two 'Cons kept going. He only vaguely noticed Astrotrain's roar of release and the burning sensation of transfluids coating the sore lining of his valve. The feedback from Blitzwing's overload struck him harder, sending echoes of the dissipating charge surging all through his systems, but even then he couldn't find it in himself to care. All he could think of in that moment was recharge and the wonderfully enticing promise of release from the world of consciousness.  
  
He felt distantly how Astrotrain withdrew and then how Blitzwing shoved his numb frame off of him and got up from the berth.  
  
“Please... please,” Skyfire whispered as he sank down onto the uneven padding again, knowing they would understand and praying with all his spark that they would fulfil their end of the bargain, if it could be called that. To his immense relief he saw an indicator for an anti-virus appearing on his HUD, meaning that they _had_ kept their promise and that he'd soon have access to his recharge protocols again.  
  
Not five seconds the process bar reached 100%, Skyfire went out like a light.  
  
Which, unfortunately, meant that he never heard Astrotrain's parting line:  
  
“Grab what recharge you can, Autobot. We'll be back tonight for round two.”  
  
END


End file.
